


i was grounded (while you filled the skies)

by wafflesofdoom



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 13:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: in which robbe and sander have a day out and robbe thinks about how it feels to be loved by someone as bold, and as bright as sander.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 7
Kudos: 277





	i was grounded (while you filled the skies)

**Author's Note:**

> i made a tumblr post about someone as quiet as robbe being loved as loudly as sander does and how beautiful that is and then couldn't get this tiny ditty of a fic out of my mind. 
> 
> title taken from the whole of the moon, because its such a robbe & sander song.

Robbe had never really craved being the centre of attention. He didn’t enjoy it, and it never felt like it had brought him much joy, if he was being honest about it. He – well, he went along with the vlogs because he’d always been the type of person to follow the crowd, a bit, but he’d never shared the same enthusiasm that Jens, Moyo and Aaron had, their personalities seeming to dazzle when they were in front of the camera.

No, Robbe wasn’t a big fan of attention. He was happy to mooch along, unseen by most, only really revelling in the attention of people he truly loved and cared about – which made it all the funnier he ended up with someone like Sander, he supposed.

Sander had a big personality. It was one of the things Robbe loved most about him – his bright ideas, and creative mind that always seemed to be overflowing with designs, drawings always at the tips of his fingers, ink spilling rapidly across sketchbooks, and napkins, and backs of receipts. Robbe’s room was cluttered with so many things that reminded him of Sander – Bowie t-shirts, and books he felt Robbe simply _had_ to read, and a rapidly growing collection of photographs. Photographs of them, of their friends, out on display, photographs of Robbe himself tucked neatly inside a book, or folder, Robbe always overwhelmed by the openness and the intimacy of the version of himself Sander seemed to so easily capture.

Sander had a big personality, and the way he loved Robbe reflected that.

Even in the beginning, when everything was overwhelming and uncertain, Sander had been the kind of boyfriend who was happy to paint his love for Robbe ten metres tall on a wall in Antwerp – _literally_. Robbe was – and remained – constantly in awe of Sander’s big gestures, his brilliant ideas for interesting date nights, and his unashamed way of making sure the entire world knew just how much he loved Robbe.

(The first time Robbe had met Sander’s friends from art school, they’d already known who he was – Sander using Robbe as the focal point of his end-of-semester project would cause that, Robbe supposed.)

It wasn’t as if Robbe was uncomfortable, with any of it. It was the opposite, actually – Sander’s loud and unapologetic love for him had always filled Robbe with a kind of confidence he had always been certain he wasn’t destined to have. How could he not feel like he could do anything, when someone like Sander believed in him, and loved him so wholeheartedly?

No, Robbe didn’t mind being the subject of so much of Sander’s art. The longer they knew each other, the more Robbe understood it was his boyfriend’s way of expressing the muddle of thoughts that would tangle in his mind, that it was just Sander’s way of putting his feelings on paper, where he could process them, best.

Okay, so, Robbe had put _quite_ a firm ban on Sander’s camera ever entering his bed, but other than that, he really, truly didn’t mind.

But sometimes – sometimes the attention was overwhelming, still, even now, months on from when they committed themselves to being _RobbeandSander_, a couple.

It was summer, finally. The schoolyear had felt like it had dragged on for a least a decade, and Robbe was glad to finally be free, to be looking forward to a few weeks off, spent with Sander, with his friends, with his mama.

The weather was even good, by Belgian standards at least, the sun feeling warm against Robbe’s skin as they explored. It had been Robbe, who had suggested getting out of Antwerp for the day, craving a change of scenery after such a tough set of exams. Sander had protested that Bruges would be too full of tourists to be fun but had Robbe happily ignored Sander as he got ready for the day.

He should have known that a day trip meant Sander would be glued to his camera, taking photos of buildings and people and animals and weird signs, he came across, and so, so many of Robbe himself – Robbe distracted, reading, Robbe eating a croissant on the train, Robbe looking increasingly more annoyed with the camera as the day went on, Robbe half asleep, and dozing in the sun.

Robbe, Robbe, Robbe.

“Robbe!”

Robbe looked over his shoulder to see Sander pointing his camera at him, barely holding in a sigh. “_Nee_, Sander, you said the _last_ photo was the _last_ one,” he said, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“But you look so beautiful in this sunshine,” Sander grinned, not the slightest bit phased by Robbe’s half-hearted protests. Sander always knew when he should actually quit it, when it came to the camera, and neither of them were ones to cause an unnecessary fight.

It was just sunny, and Robbe was in too good a mood to really put up a fight.

“Sander,” Robbe practically whined.

“Yes, _lief_?”

Robbe let the term of endearment wash over him for a second, the word still setting off a colony of butterflies in his stomach. He was quite sure he’d never get used to hearing Sander call him that – or any of the dozen other nicknames Sander had come up with for him over the months, each more sickly sweet and ridiculous than the one that had come before it. It still felt too overwhelming, to be loved by someone as bold and bright and brilliant as Sander was.

“I’m here,” Robbe said softly, tugging on the strap of Sander’s camera, giving his boyfriend a pointed look. “Not in there.”

Sander smiled, dipping his head to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Robbe’s mouth. “I know,” he said. “But on the days you aren’t with me, I like to be able to look at you as if you were.”

Robbe raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re not going to put it on Instagram, then?”

Sander feigned innocence. “The world _deserves_ to see your beautiful face, Robbe,” he said, but relenting all the same, slotting the lens cover over his camera before reaching for Robbe’s hand, intertwining their fingers tightly.

Robbe pressed a kiss to Sander’s shoulder. “The only one I care about is you,” he murmured. Sander – Sander had always loved him loudly, and passionately, and with everything he had, and Robbe was grateful for that, because Sander’s authenticity had been such a driving force for Robbe embracing his own life of truth.

But in much the same way as Sander’s love was loud, and unapologetic, and gave Robbe _wings_, however cheesy that was – he knew his love for Sander grounded the older boy. Robbe was glad to be that, for him. 

“Let’s get a coffee,” Robbe suggested, jerking his head toward a less busy street, knowing they’d stumble across somewhere eventually. “And maybe I’ll be nice and let you put one photo on Instagram.”

Sander laughed, the sound like music to Robbe’s ear. Things hadn’t been easy – nothing in life ever was, was it? But even on the bad days, and God knows, they both had bad days, they’d kept choosing each other, and making it work, and Robbe wasn’t naïve, no – he knew things would never be completely simple, for them.

But he wouldn’t want simple, not if it meant he couldn’t have Sander, and all the bright, bold love that came with the boy who’d come crashing into his life nearly nine months previously.

“Sounds good,” Sander hummed, swinging their joined hands between them. “We need to plan what we’re doing for your birthday, anyway.”

Robbe fixed him with a serious look. “Nothing, unless you’d like to be single before the summer is over,” he said, firm in his decision that there would be no celebration of his birthday, this year. No cake, no presents, and absolutely no party.

He was sure Sander had other plans, but Robbe would protest a little longer, at least, before he let himself get swept up in whatever masterplan Sander had concocted for his birthday.

Maybe – maybe Robbe didn’t like to be the centre of attention, but being at the centre of Sander’s world was a pretty nice place to be.

** _fin_ **


End file.
